England visits Mcdonalds
by MayaMumiai
Summary: America has finally convinced his big brother England to try a Big Mac meal. What will he think?


"Come on dude, you're gonna love it."

"I highly doubt that." The Brit glared at his younger brother. After years of coaxing and pestering, England had finally agreed to let America take him to McDonalds. The lure of making America _attempt_ to be silent for a whole day was to good. Good enough to weigh out the possibility of having to give him piggybacks everywhere for the rest of the weekend. That's right, they had made a bet. If England liked McDonalds he had to give America as many piggy back as he wanted for the weekend but if he didn't America had to remain silent for an entire day. The pros really out weighed the cons on this one.

They were currently stood outside the red brick building as a never ending amount of people entered the building and left soon after shoving heaps of greasy browned 'burgers' into their mouths. To say he was looking forward to be this would be a huge lie on Englands part, it would be more accurate to say he was looking forward to getting it out of the way. Hopefully once America had seen him try on the these monstrosities he called food then he would drop the subject and leave England to his own food.

"Oh come on dude, their slogan is 'I'm lovin' it.' So you've gotta love it." Exclaimed the American as he grabbed hold of Englands arm and proceeded to drag him through the double glass doors and straight to the back of the 20ft long line of people waiting to be served.

"Are the lines here always so bloody long?" The human personification of England asked as he stared at the stupidly large amount group of people in front of him, not to mention the absurd amount of people crowding almost every corner of the 'restaurant'.

"Well dur, it one of the most popular food distributors in my County, if not **the** most popular."

"Of course it is." England frowned, not quite sure if he should be surprised, what with obesity levels in America on the rise as well.

10 minutes later it was their turn at the counter.

"Hello, can I take your order?" The spotty cashier asked in a bored tone. England noticed his name tag said 'Sebastian' and he guessed he was about 17.

"Yeah" America answered immediately, "We'll have six big mac meal-"

"SIX?"

"Oh sorry Bro I should of asked if you wanted more than one meal. How many did you want?."

"Just one, thank you." _**Honestly the man eats like a hover.**_

America turned back to the Cashier, "So yeah, six big mac Meals, super size them actually, 20 piece chicken nugget box, um, hey Iggy did you want any ice-cream?"

"No." He didn't even want to imagine McDonalds version of ice-cream, he couldn't stand it normally.

Back to at the counter, the USA continued: "3 smartie McFlurrys, two happy meals, one of each and do you still do the Whopper?"

"Umm I think so."

"Great, four of those as well please. Could we have two large diet cokes?"

_**Diet coke, because he wouldn't want to get fat.**_

"Erm, could you say that last bit again, I didn't quite catch it." The now very shell shocked teenager asked.

"I don't think anybody did, honestly America to need to slow down when you talk. Not everyone speaks supersonic American." The bright blond muttered.

"Shut up Limey." The less bright blond shot straight back before repeating his order again only much slower and paying for it.

Another 10 minutes went by before the cashier returned with two trays stacked with little boxed and bags filled with their meal.

The three exchanged food and 'thank you's. Now the two Countries would have to find some where to sit. After 5 minutes of circling the same few sections a small table between two large families opened up, and England could swear he'd never seen America move so fast in his life. The blue eyed man shot through the maze of tables and chairs as if his life depended on it, his big brother following slowly behind.

Fortunately America had reached the table in record time. Unfortunately it meant England would have to sit behind a set of screaming babies, on possibly the dirtiest seat he'd ever seen.

"What you waitin' for dude? Sit down, dig in!"

_**I suppose I could always burn these trousers once I get home.**_

Going against all his natural instincts England forced himself onto the sticky brown seat.

Seconds later America handed him small red box labelled 'Big Mac' and a red cone filled with what he assumed were 'fries'.

He placed them down on the table and opened the small red box, inside he found the dreaded burger, lifting the top bun he found a yellowy green substance that he assumed was the lettuce and sauce. Underneath was the actual _meat_. He guessed that the rest it would look the same under the next layer so he put the bun back and looked up at America.

"Go on, eat it" Urged the American as he took another bit from his second burger, how anybody ate that fast England would never know.

Slightly hesitant the Englishman took a hold of the burger and brought it up to his face. Already its fillings began to slip out of the sides and drip onto his hands and ran down his sleeve. Before even taking a bite he had to admit that it smelt quite alluring.

_**3... 2... 1...**_

He wrapped his lips around the sloppy heap of meat, dug in his teeth and pulled of a small portion. He rolled the food around his mouth for a moment, savouring the different flavours and textures before chewing and swallowing.

"So? Do you like it? Love it?" America asked as he lowered his own burger and stared at the green eyed man expectantly. "Well?"

"Its not bad." He answered as he took another bite and another, then polishing off the entire thing...

and two more of Americas. After all, he was going to need his energy now that he was Americas personal chauffeur for the next two days.

I apologise for wasting your time, I don't even know what this is. I couldn't sleep so I wrote this instead. I'll try not to write anything else when I'm struggling to sleep. Thank you for reading it anyway.

Just to let you know the _**bold italics**_ are Englands thoughts.


End file.
